


A Revolutionary Act

by StarberryCupcake



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Body Image, Body Positivity, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Illustrated Fic, M/M, Panic Attacks, Romance, Self Confidence Issues, Social Media, fatphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8915188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarberryCupcake/pseuds/StarberryCupcake
Summary: Struggling. He has spent enough time in English-speaking countries to recognize the various meanings behind that one word. To understand that it also implies a fight, a tug of war. It means that Yuri’s body is his own enemy. Yuri contemplates his relationship with his own body and Viktor is there to listen, learn and love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Special and everlasting thanks to my very patient friends [Aya](https://twitter.com/cherrypietic/) and [Anita](http://blindpencils.tumblr.com/) for helping me out with the Japanese and Russian translations for this fic. Really, you've been so so patient. The tags mention the warnings but, to be on the safe side, this fic is centered in body image, self-confidence issues and features an anxiety attack, so read with caution.

 

> _"Do you know how miserable it feels to maintain a body that has been deemed unworthy by society? In the same breath, do you know what a joy it is to take care of something that you love? Therefore, celebrating your body is **a revolutionary act**." _  — Mary Lambert

 

Yuri scrolls through his phone again, his heart beating faster each time he does so. He has opened and closed his instagram app about five times, wondering whether he should or shouldn’t respond and how to do so. The alternatives span a myriad of possibilities, ranging from simply ignoring the situation and going back to his post-season oasis or taking a picture of his side rolls, hashtag-ing it with a passive aggressive “#nofilter” and basically declaring war on international media.

The old Yuri, the Yuri who cried in bathrooms, hid from the world and didn’t bother shaking the hands of curious strangers who barely recognized him from local posters, _that Yuri_ would have done the former. He would have hid, let it pass. His heart would have probably sunk for the invasion of privacy, for the patronizing tone used against him, for the slurs. But he would have taken it as normal. As predictable. As expected. He would have cared for a while, then let it sink inside him afterwards, until he didn’t anymore. Until he _thought_ he didn’t anymore. That Yuri would have pretended it didn’t make a difference, but he would have found himself crying days later while zipping up a pair of old jeans and would have pretended he didn’t know the reason behind the tears.

 _The new Yuri_ , though, he wants blood. He wants to call them out, to stand up for himself. And for others. The new Yuri learned to shake the hands of those who recognized him, and doing so, he met a chubby girl with pink cheeks and pigtails who thanked him. Thanked _him_ , of all people. The new Yuri listened to the babbling mess of sentences the little girl spoke, intently, and recognized himself in her story. In how other girls pushed her around in the ice rink, calling her names. Making fun of her dreams. The new Yuri held back tears as the girl thanked him because she had seen him in videos, with his chubby form, making the rink his own, and that had inspired her to push forward. And he felt like a fraud, responding for something he didn’t even _know_ he was doing.

Does Viktor feel like this? Like a fraud? When Yuri put him up on a pedestal, like an unreachable deity, and when he still does, slipping to his old self, wondering why on earth he is still there, with _him_. Does he feel like he’s cheating?

But Viktor isn’t a fraud. He is Yuri’s hero because he loves skating. His craft is art because he paints stories with his body and makes the ice his home. Viktor fights and works for it, he carries on, looks for inspiration, sees beauty in things others don’t and takes time to perfect what he puts his mind to because he wants the world to see beauty the way he does. In the smallest things, the strangest things, the most irrelevant things. In Hasetsu Castle. In katsudon. In the seaside. In the wind blowing through his hair. In a perfect selfie spot. In _Yuri_.

Yuri feels like a fraud because what this girl sees in him, what inspires her, is something he has never considered important enough to defend. To represent. To speak for. Yes, he puts up weight easily and no, he doesn’t really care about it. He knows he has to lose it for competitions, because it isn’t just about the weight but the muscle mass and the eating habits and the stamina and so on and so forth, but he never questioned how competitive standards for skaters, together with the media, make people think they outright _can’t skate_ if they aren’t thin. Before the girl appeared in his life, he had never researched plus size skaters before (he found out they existed!) or plus size sportspeople (they existed too!) and he wondered why they weren’t spoken about more. The night after meeting the girl, he had spent hours watching plus size figure skaters on YouTube and reading how they were shred to pieces in the comment sections, especially girls. Nobody questioned hockey players’ build but a fat girl in a short dress pulling a Camel spin or an Axel jump was a matter of everyone’s concern. Of everyone’s venom. The whole situation sticked with him like bubblegum in his sole, he didn’t want to stop and painstakingly remove it just then, but he knew it was there and it wasn’t letting go.

And now, in the middle of his off-season vacations, he sees the article. On the other side of the ocean, an American gossip magazine caught a scoop of him hanging out on the beach with Viktor and took photos of their distinctly different looking bodies: Viktor’s toned muscles and Yuri’s tummy. Viktor’s abs and Yuri’s rolls. And then the headline, bold and daring, asking, demanding: “Is Skating Star Yuri Katsuki Struggling With His Weight Again?!”.

 _Struggling_. He has spent enough time in English-speaking countries to recognize the various meanings behind that one word. To understand that it also implies a fight, a tug of war. It means that Yuri’s body is his own enemy. He closes his eyes and all he can see is that little girl being thankful and that little boy he had once been, pushed around in the ice.

“It’s not _fair_ ” he whispers, anger leaking through his words.  

“Милый, did you say something?” Viktor’s voice is carried by the summer breeze, his body settling comfortably to his right on the grass.

Makkachin sits on his left, his head touching Yuri’s hand, as if sensing his uneasy spirit.

“This is not ok” Yuri passes him the phone, disengaging his eyes from it but keeping the deep frown on his face.

Viktor scrolls through the article with ease, not bothered in the slightest.

“It’s just an article, Yuri” he passes him the phone back, having barely even skimmed through it “You’ll get your shape back again in no time”

Viktor leans in and kisses his forehead, kindly, sweetly, but Yuri feels it like a branding iron, scorching in him the suggestion to shut up and take it. Like the old Yuri always did.

But not this Yuri. Not this time.

“THAT ISN’T THE POINT!”

His scream cuts through the air, drawing a line that separates him from Viktor. He sees Viktor’s surprise, his uneasiness. Makkachin is startled too, mirroring the worry of his owner at Yuri’s left.  

Yuri sighs. He forces his eyes closed, to hide them from Viktor, to avoid his judgment, his disappointment, his confusion. He hates it when he snaps at him, whenever he feels overwhelmed, and he always ends up apologizing profusely immediately after, to what Viktor responds with kindness, humor and patience.

But this time he can’t agree with him and that scares him. He doesn’t want to lose him, but he doesn’t want to lie. Not to him.

“I’m not struggling, Viktor” his eyes are still closed shut, his fists harnessed in the grass at each side of him, to stay grounded, to stay present “I don’t hate my body, I don’t hate it when it’s fat, and no one should hate theirs either, no matter what. I don’t want little kids feeling they don’t belong in the ice because they’re fat, I don’t want them pushed around and getting called names and not finding the will to go back and try doing what they love. I don’t want them to feel they have to escape a body that should be their _home_.”

He opens his eyes, tears brimming, and looks at the man beside him. His hero. His inspiration. His love.

“I can’t look away, Viktor”

_Please, understand._

“Even if I put down the weight, if my body changes for competitions, if I’m not _always_ the fat skating kid...”

_Please, listen._

“There’s others out there who are that kid _right now_ and I want to be there for them, like _you_ were there for me when I was that kid”

_Look at me._

“I can’t let this go, Viktor, not like this”

_See me the way I am._

His eyes are locked in Viktor’s. His intent is clear, as if he is in the ice, in the middle of the rink, looking at him sternly, confidently, singing with his body how much he can love him.

Viktor reaches out first. He is swift, careful, and his hand feels like summer breeze across Yuri’s cheek. His eyes are fixed on his still, and only move to stare intently at Yuri’s lips, which he captures just as swiftly. Yuri’s hands leave the grass and grab Viktor instead, still needing to feel grounded, but finding sanctuary with Viktor’s lips tasting his own, his hands caressing Yuri's face, his hair, his back. They expertly find the hem of his shirt and start exploring underneath, gently grazing his waist…

Yuri lets him go violently, extracting himself from Viktor’s embrace like if his touch could burn him alive. He immediately distances himself, retreats, removing Viktor’s hands from his skin. From his body. From his _rolls_. His heart is beating faster, he finds he can’t breathe properly, as if the air around him isn’t enough. He recognizes it for what it is, because he has felt it before, when he was getting ready to skate in competitions he knew he would lose, when he was scared out of his mind of failing. It’s panic. He is in panic because of his _own body_. He has never felt like that before, not ever, and the sole idea of being afraid of something _you can’t escape_ _from_ makes him shiver and lose focus of the world around him.

“Yuri” Viktor calls, reaching out but not touching him, scared of him flinching again, retreating again, _escaping from him_  “Yuri please, I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to…”

Yuri hears Viktor’s fear more than his words. He recognizes it just like his own, and realizes he doesn’t know what to do. Like that time when he thought threatening him with resigning was the best way to motivate him and had him breaking down in tears instantly after.

Yuri breathes in, out, in, out. He sees Viktor mimicking him and, tentatively, reaches out to grab his hand. He has to invite the fear in and let it pass, like the pull of a spin which gets faster and faster before it slows down on its own and gradually stops, leaving him heaving in the middle of the rink, his heart rate slowing and his adrenaline fading. It passes. It always passes. 

“Sorry” he manages between breaths “I’m sorry”

Viktor grasps his hand reassuringly.

“No, мой дорогой, _I’m_ sorry” he draws circles on Yuri’s hand with his thumb, comforting, familiar.

“I lost myself for a while there” Yuri confesses “When you touched my body, I…”

“I shouldn’t have…” Viktor stumbles through words, he always does when he isn’t sure how to approach Yuri, how to open up to him properly without scaring him off “I should have responded, but I always tend to speak more with my body than I do with my words”

Yuri smiles.

“That’s why you’re a fantastic skater”

Viktor smirks.

“Among other things” he adds, winking.

That makes Yuri blush and giggle and, just like that, dissipates the fear a bit, erasing that line between them which Yuri drew with his initial shout.

“I wanted to show you that I understand” Viktor continues, their hands still linked together on the grass, matching rings gleaming in the sun “I mean, I don’t really _understand_ , it’s not something I have gone through, and I didn’t really see how it was so important, until you said it.”

Viktor disengages his hand from Yuri’s and opens his arms, a silent invitation. He is letting him choose if he is ready to be touched again, held again. Yuri takes his place in Viktor’s embrace and his body, as it is, fits perfectly where he feels most welcome.  

“When you touched me I…” Yuri closes his eyes and inhales deeply, his nose caressing Viktor’s neck, the smell of his distinctive cologne calming him “I got scared...I was scared of my own body and I don’t want to feel like that” tears start escaping him and he makes an effort to keep his voice steady “I don’t want others to feel like that either”

Viktor kisses the top of his head and stays there, keeping him in a tight embrace that spells  _'I'_ _m here, I got you, I’m not letting go'._  He slowly lays them on the grass, hovering over Yuri to look at him in the eyes.

Yuri, self-conscious and blushing, looks away from him, but Viktor doesn’t mind, carefully caressing his tear-stained cheek. He doesn’t force him to look at him, he doesn’t ask, he just slowly and delicately touches his cheeks, his neck, his hair, never looking away, waiting for him to feel like he can look back. The old Yuri would have never looked back. He would have run from the intimacy like if it was poison, wondering if Viktor just liked to torture him. The new Yuri looks back. He understands Viktor. He sees his approaches as the honest and open invitation to love that they truly are. He reaches out. He kisses first.

Viktor returns the kiss more tentatively than before. He isn’t rushed or passionate, he’s loving and patient, as if he wanted the kiss to last forever. However, he is also the one to pull back first. He must see Yuri’s disappointment, because he doesn’t wait to speak.

“I want to be clear with you, Yuri” his eyes are set and his brow furrowed, and it seems like it is him the one on the ice now, skating his love to Yuri “I love you and I want to be with you and if you think this is important, then so do I” Yuri thinks he sees him blush slightly but can’t be sure “I may not understand completely and you may have to put me right along the way, but I want to support you, I want to live up to the hero you think I was to you”

Yuri’s heart is soaring. The weight of the article, of the comments, of the people pushing others down gets lifted halfway. It’s as if Viktor is now carrying it with him, not taking it away completely but making it more bearable for Yuri. Sharing the burden.   

“The hero you _are_ to me” he corrects, and brings their mouths clashing again, more passionately now, sure and determined.

He gets lost in the aphrodisiac that is the smell of his cologne, the softness of Viktor’s hair through his fingers, the taste of his mouth on his own and the shivers he feels when he playfully bites Yuri’s lower lip and he silences Yuri’s moan with his tongue, tempting and inviting and real, _so very real_. Whenever he’s starting to feel like this is all just a dream, Viktor comes in unabashedly declaring their love, touching him like if he was committing every inch of him to memory, every single time, all over again.

The moment Viktor’s hands touch his body again, they do it with reverence, and Yuri knows it’s not enough. It will never be. It’s not enough to quiet the fear and the anger. No matter how much Viktor can show him he’s good enough, until he doesn’t believe it, nothing will change. He needs to make peace with his body and he promises himself he will start trying. If not for himself then for that chubby little boy who struggled in the rink, dreaming to meet a hero he would learn to love.

* * *

He finds the way to compromise a week later. A way to make the statement which isn’t quite like the old Yuri but not quite like the one he is while skating for Viktor either. A way that is both. Imperfect yet eager to learn.

He’s catching up with Japanese TV in Yu-topia one night, with a dozing Viktor quietly snoring on his lap and a sleepy Makkachin on his feet. Her show starts and he’s fascinated. She’s funny, witty, beautiful and her weight isn’t treated like a joke. She doesn’t hide behind a cartoonish persona, she is all presence and charisma. The show lets people send messages and he tells her she’s amazing. She responds in camera, a beautiful smile on her face, surprised when she recognizes his name.

The studio calls him a week later to schedule his appearance and he researches her first. He finds out she has a clothing line. A size inclusive clothing line, at that. Of course she does. He becomes her Nr. 1 fan when he sees the sweatshirts on the shop and immediately decides how to use them. He takes a picture of them when they arrive, opens the instagram app and lets the world know he’s on a journey.

 

**Author's Note:**

> \- There is a photoset to go with this fic [ here.](http://starberry-cupcake.tumblr.com/post/154697457040/a-revolutionary-act-a-victuuri-fic-on-ao3)  
> \- The Russian terms used are "dear" and "darling" in the fic and "sweet potato" and "oysters" in the instagram screencap.  
> \- I haven't found if Yuri's instagram handle is ever shown (up to episode 11), so I winged that one, the rest are the same as they are on the show.  
> \- The actress/host/model Yuri finds while watching TV is Naomi Watanabe, host of the night show [NAOMIの部屋](http://www.nhk.or.jp/s-oto/naomi/) in NHK, face of the size inclusive brand [PUNYUS](http://punyus.jp/) and one of my personal idols. She's doing a lot to improve the situation of body acceptance in Japanese media and I really respect her.  
> \- The food sweatshirts and matching shorts made by PUNYUS include all the designs named here (although the Katsu one is sold out) and you can see them [here.](http://store.punyus.jp/item/detail.html?product_id=800&col_sel=)  
> \- The YouTube videos of plus size ice skaters with awful comments is sadly a true occurrence, I've spent a while watching my fair share of them and reading articles on the subject after this show started, because a plus size character is a very big deal for me representation wise, and, like Yuri here, I had never wondered how many plus size skaters were out there doing their thing and being awesome.  
> \- This fic is based on personal experience in more ways than one (and unashamedly based on the fact that I believe we need more of this subject in canon and fanon), but if you feel uncomfortable with how something was portrayed, feel free to let me know.  
> \- I am aware that katsudon is not katsu+udon, it's another dish entirely and they use different ingredients (udon involves noodles), but PUNYUS doesn't have a Katsudon sweatshirt (yet) so I had to improvise. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, it means a lot ♥


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